


The End of Days

by BluSheep



Category: Horizon: Zero Dawn (Video Game)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-03-06 14:50:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13413576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BluSheep/pseuds/BluSheep
Summary: As the swarm, ES-17, touches down on the eastern seaboard of the United States, a young man from Virginia embarks on a journey during the final months of the Old World. His inadvertent adventure is filled with friendships, the sorrow of loss, fear, and coming to grips with the end of the world.





	The End of Days

Chapter 1: The Coming of the Swarm

On an early spring morning, before dawn, I sat by my bedroom window with eyes fixed on the eastern horizon. A gentle rain pattered the glass. As I looked on, a continuous display of brief, low-lying flashes illuminated the darkness over the whole of the Atlantic horizon; muffled explosions rumbled with each flash in varying degrees of loudness. With an outstretched arm, the light show of the encounter would span about half the width of the hand. Military helicopters and jets, visible only by their formation lights, sounded above my apartment as they flew toward the scene of chaos. Needless to say, the whole sky was covered in the flashing lights of military aircraft. A haunting spectacle it was.

Behind me, my small room was lit only by the pale glow of my television which was tuned to the news; energy usage had been strictly regulated after a state of emergency was declared in Virginia a few weeks ago. At that time, I wasn't aware that the entirety of the U.S. military along the eastern seaboard had been put under high alert. As soon as American media coverage of the European theater of war had ceased in January, the usual day-to-day routine had changed even more drastically. I no longer attended my college classes because the students and staff had decided, for the most part, to stay with family wherever that may be. After all, it was the end of days; the only occupation left was that of home defense. As a result, my dreams of working at Miriam Technologies under Dr. Sobeck had dissolved. When I awoke this morning to the flashes and rumbles that colored the ocean's edge, I knew that the swarm had arrived. The dread of the realization glued me to the window as a man drawn to the depths of an abyss. Immediately, I had made up my mind that I too should visit my family soon; Easter was four days away anyways.

About two months before that morning, word had gone around, chiefly by way of the internet, that the swarm was heading for the east coast. Most news agencies were vague about the subject of course. The undetected swarm was designated ES-17; a name that by its plainness made me tremble. In the beginning of last month, February, a few of the more reliable outlets had revealed the U.S. government's declaration of a state of DEFCON 1 and the subsequent mobilization of the entirety of the U.S. military on the eastern seaboard all the way from New York to Florida. At the same time, droves of military equipment and defensive measures, mixed with old nuclear artillery pieces, were set up on the western banks of the Chesapeake Bay where I lived while the Delmarva Peninsula to the east had been evacuated to serve, according to the news, as a kind of large-scale trap and focus of bombardment in the event of an invasion. These preparations were hastened after the sudden loss of communication with most of the European Union and the NATO headquarters at Belgium in late February.

After the initial rumors of the swarm's approach, which followed the sudden loss of contact, whole divisions and mechanized brigades of the U.S. army were seen crowding the roads on their way toward the Atlantic coast. Transport helicopters and aircraft both outdated and modern filled the spring skies too like birds during autumn migration. In the same month, a news agency helicopter had shown an unforgettable live feed of the combined task forces and fleets of the U.S. Navy all concentrated off Virginia and New York. This massive movement of military assets confirmed the rumors and fears of a looming invasion. During sunrise, on the same day as that live feed of the navy, I witnessed a procession of at least four carrier strike groups, each with railgun mounting destroyer escorts, leave the Chesapeake Bay to join the fleet shown in the news. It was a solemn experience to see them sail out to sea.

Two old battleships from a century old war, the USS Wisconsin and USS New Jersey, were also seen in the live helicopter feed amid the smaller yet more powerful modern ships. Each were armed with there obsolete 16-inch cannons in triple barreled turrets and other old weapons systems. I was aware of the drawback that rendered most automated equipment useless and I presumed that a majority of the weapon systems aboard the ships were inert. Despite my assumption, however, military correspondents had stated on that day that encryption experts had managed to devise an encryption technology similar to that used by the Chariot-line for use in the various automated systems employed by the U.S Navy. The correspondents had expressed confidence in the encryptions invulnerability to hacking by the swarm, but I had my doubts. Nevertheless, the scene of those endless fleets and task forces served to rouse hope in me. If one were to have stood on the shores and look out over the ocean, one would have seen ships dotting the entire Atlantic horizon as far as the eye could see. A few days ago, during the evening, I had stood on a pier jutting out from Virginia Beach amidst the strong winds and took in the sight of that noble wall of ships. They had been patrolling the same general area for over two months, but usually sailed out of view over the edge of the horizon. At the time, I believed that nothing could defeat them whether or not their automated assets were null; not even the swarm.

I had seen videos online, however; the horrors of it all, when Europe was still in the fight. I remember a specific live video from Germany about three months ago, after New Year's Day, that showed one of the smaller machines "processing" a human being. The camera-man, whispering in German, had filmed cautiously from a second-floor window overlooking a town street. At the start of the video, an injured young man, with what seemed to be a broken leg, was approached by a battered Scarab, covered in dried blood and dents, which proceeded to exsanguinate and mince the man's body while he was still alive. The machine had merely stood over him like a hen brooding her eggs. I will never forget the screams. The shrieks of agony as the machine hunkered over the bloodied man on the grass beside a bike path. I had turned away in revulsion, but listened on. No help came. A ruined German army tank, the best of its kind, stood charred on the road in the background. Meanwhile, crying could be heard throughout and the camera-man had made quiet shushing sounds. Then the video ended. Whether it was he who ended the recording or the U.S. government, I do not know. Similar content would usually be taken down from the internet, but the live videos thrived.

All of those filmed incidents flooded my mind as I watched the daunting flashes in the distance. The U.S. Navy task forces were, no doubt, engaged in an intense firefight and were making use of all their firepower. I imagined the high energy laser Counter-RAMs, the railgun turrets, and other automated systems being directed toward the oncoming hordes if the encryption had succeeded in making the technology immune to hacking. On my nightstand, the holographic clock read 3:56; dawn was yet to come. Meanwhile, I rolled a small, cyan colored pill between the fingertips of my trembling right hand. It had been issued to all over the age of 21 to encourage fearless resistance in Operation: Enduring Victory; it promised instant death once swallowed. I placed it back into its small, plastic container, walked over to the nightstand beside my bed, and put it in the drawer. Then, I returned to the chair facing the window and looked toward the horizon once again. Project Zero Dawn, the focus of the media after the first reports of all-out war in Europe and Asia, occupied my thoughts as I watched the flickering glow of the distant encounter.

The assured manner in which the president had described the alleged super weapon on the 12th of November last year sparked my imagination then. I pictured in my mind some satellite mounted missile system or a colossal, land-based defensive measure that would outdo all the firepower of the combined fleets that battled far off in the darkness. Imaginative ideas of the nature of the super weapon kindled hope within my heart despite my helpless fear. As these worries and wonders flitted through my mind, a muted siren blared suddenly from outside and soon after, an emergency alert reanimated my television screen. I turned the whole of my attention toward it. An urgent message moved across the screen and directed residents to designated county centers for essential supplies. I saw my residence, Gloucester county, which had a few areas specified for pickup and I heeded the nearest destination about a few minutes' drive away. Then, as the messages continued across the bottom, the president appeared on screen. He looked solemn as always. After a brief silence, he spoke in a measured voice.

"My fellow Americans,

This morning on March the 25th, 2065, the U.S. Navy task forces assigned to the eastern seaboard have made contact with an enemy swarm, ES-17, off the coast of Virginia. Another swarm, ES-18, has been detected approaching Florida. The U.S. military has made extensive use of its nuclear assets in an attempt to stall the swarm on its way across the Atlantic and a large number of Horus machines have been neutralized, but this is just the beginning of our struggle. As of yet, the status of our European allies is unknown. Their governments have sworn to detonate their nuclear arsenals in major centers in the event of total and irreversible defeat. A few detonations have been, so far, detected by our scientists. However, in the face of this unrelenting enemy, the brave men and women of the U.S. military will fight on with undying resolve to defend our nation, to protect our loved ones, and to safeguard humanity and all life on Earth. That is the duty of not only the military, but also the civilians of this country. Do not despair on this day, this day of days. Operation: Enduring Victory will, by the American citizen's unfaltering determination, prevail and Project Zero Dawn will emerge to smite once and for all this scourge from our world. My fellow Americans, rise and take up arms. Fight for hope, fight for our future. On the brink of uncertainty, let not fear strike your hearts for we will triumph. We will succeed for the sake of all the dreams and hopes as of yet left unrealized; dreams and hopes that must and will live on forever. May God bless you all."

Then, the camera cut and the screen showed only the moving messages. I reflected on the merits of the president's speech. A few questions took hold of my mind as well. How can the swarm robots withstand a nuclear attack? How many nuclear bombs were dropped upon them? How does the president expect civilians to fight? I assumed, regarding the latter, that he meant for civilians to offer indirect aid rather than fight head on with the swarm. With a feeble resolve, I turned once again toward the flashes and listened to the rumbles of the distant battle as I considered what to do. I should head to the supply center to see what's being handed out, I thought. I found it strange that the alert didn't specify the supplies being given. Nonetheless, I presumed that it must be something important given the looming invasion. After that, I'll go to my parent's house; I need to see them and my sister before its too late.

With my plan laid out, I turned off the television, changed out of my pajamas, and put on my dark green sweater. I made sure to grab the pill from the nightstand drawer and secure it in my jeans pocket. Then, I hurried to the kitchen to pack the food and supplies that I would bring on the drive to Alexandria, which was near Washington, D.C., where my parents lived; I had a feeling that I wouldn't be returning to my apartment any time soon and I imagined that food might become scarce in the coming days. After gathering bread, water, canned food, and other non-perishables in an old cardboard box from a past Christmas, I returned to my bedroom window once more and beheld the remote bursts of light and muffled explosions. Rainwater dripped down the glass pane. Sometimes, bright tracer rounds would shoot down from multiple points in the dark sky faraway. I imagined that it must be the gunships of the air force raining down fire. All the while, I half-expected to see the shadowy forms of those dreadful giants, the Horus machines. The encounter was too far off, however, and obscured by the southern tip of the Delmarva peninsula that bordered the Chesapeake Bay to the east. Still, I waited in fear for one of those tall, unearthly limbs to appear in the midst of the brief flashes. Nothing.

I knew that videos showing the titans, the Horus machines, were rare; the minor robots of the swarm almost always led the invasion dozens of miles ahead of them according to Chariot-line experts. In late January, there was a live video from the North Sea off Devonport that garnered millions of views. A fishing trawler in cloudy weather and windy seas caught sight of a motionless form amid the waves about 50 feet off the portside. It was a dull gray in some parts and gleaming silver in others, but most importantly, it was massive, well in excess of 250 meters in length. It was as if a towering, Faro Automated Solutions skyscraper had been laying adrift on its side amid the swells. One of the sailors decided to film it live while another, after close observation, decided to call it in to someone; his pale face and terrified look meant that he knew what it was. Then, about a couple of minutes later, it suddenly submerged beneath the waves as the sailors shouted and cursed in surprise. The fisherman filmed for about a half an hour more and about 20 minutes in, military jets flew overhead. A few weeks after that video, contact with Britain ceased. It was well known that much of their military, especially the Royal Air Force, had been replaced by automated assets, a move that left them completely bare and which forced them to resort to obsolete technology. As the world had learned early on, the swarm had the power to render all automated equipment inoperable. However, the degree to which they had power over similarly encrypted, non-corrupt AI was not fully known.

I managed to pull my eyes away from the window and clear my mind of the graphic content of the horrid videos. Then, I made my way to the kitchen once more to grab the box of supplies and headed out the front door to my car in the parking lot. The rain poured lightly. Military jets and other aircraft continued to resound overhead. Crowds of people were leaving their apartments as well and packing their cars with necessities. Half-asleep children, still in pajamas, clung to their mothers unaware of the looming invasion and inevitable suffering. No more would they go to school, make friends, go on field trips, or live the normal life of a child if the military and navy failed. The realization weighed on my heart and I stood watching the crowds in deep sorrow. An unwelcome thought of a Scarab squatting over the bloodied bodies of these people as it did in that gruesome video took hold of my mind; I felt sick at my lack of mental restraint. I wanted to fight then and there; to hold off the scourge. I wasn't a soldier, though; I had the cyan-colored pill, but no weapon to rival that of the swarm. With a feeling of utter powerlessness, I got into my car to head for the supply pickup center. I informed the automated driver AI of my directions and looked out the rain pattered window at the panicked faces. Little did I know of the daunting and extraordinary journey that lay ahead for me.


End file.
